Punching Bag
by freelancer-of-pluto
Summary: York and Carolina have just come back from the insurrectionist's base and Carolina is training harder than ever before, but York can tell something is wrong, and he's going to find out one way or another. This was thrown together in a mass of York and Carolina feels that I just had to get out. So... yeah.


Title: Punching Bag  
Fandom: Red vs. Blue  
Author: Agent-Pluto/ freelancer-of-pluto/Liriana (Heather)  
Rating: 13+ for a really, really cheesy kiss I don't know  
Characters: York, Carolina, mentions of CT and Tex  
Pairing: York/Carolina  
Summary: York and Carolina have just come back from the insurrectionist's base and Carolina is training harder than ever before, but York can tell something is wrong, and he's going to find out one way or another.  
Sample: _"__'Lina, you can always talk to me," he tries to assure her, but in an instant her eyes are clenched shut and she sends a fist flying through the air and at the punching bag. The punch connects, breaking links on the chain that once held it up and sends it hurdling towards the other side of the gym. And just like that, she collapses onto her knees._

Author's note: ASFLASKHFALK WHAT IS THIS I CAN'T EVEN. Okay, thrown together in a mass of Carolina and York feels. I MEAN ASDKFASLDKFHASLK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. So yeah. I imagine something like this happening. And then maybe after they go fuck in York's room for a bit because that's the way they roll.

Thump thumpthump thump thump

The steady rhythm of thumps echoes through the Freelancer's gym, each one accompanied by the rattle of a chain and a steady, if not tired, sounding breath. Of course, York knows it's Carolina from the moment he starts hearing the thumping, but it wasn't until she came into his vision that he starts worrying. Her hair is pulled into a fiery ponytail, her fists wrapped in cloth slamming into the punching bag.

_Thump thump thump. Thump thump._

Her back is turned to him, but he guesses she feels his presence as assault slows, if only for a moment. He sits down on one of the weights benches a few feet away, throwing his towel over one shoulder and watching her. Shorts and a sports-bra on, she ducks out of the way of a non-existent arm and hurls her knuckles into the bag.

_Thump thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump thump thump._

"'Lina, 's two in the mornin'," he says to her as gentle as he can. "Give it a rest."  
"No," she replies roughly, not turning to him.

_Thumpthump thump thump_

"Why not?"  
"Because I'm not going to," he sees the cloth wrapped around her hands are crimson only at the knuckles, and the colour is spreading. His eyes widen, his figure standing from the bench.

_Thump thump thump thump thump thump_

"'Lina, can you stop please?" He asks with a voice not as gentle as before. She doesn't respond.

_Thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthump thump thump_

"'Lina."

_Thump thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump_

"Carolina, stop. Now."

And she stops suddenly, a fist still connected to the punching bag and her head dipped. He stands up and steps over to her, putting his hand on the one that's pressed against the bag.  
"'Lina, talk to me," his voice comes out as barely a whisper, but he hears a little sob that comes from her.  
"I can't." She drops her arm to her side and turns to him. Her face was flushed pink from exertion and her eyes were red and puffy. He can see the little trails that tears might have fallen from, but he's not too sure. Carolina never cried. Ever.

"'Lina, you can always talk to me," he tries to assure her, but in an instant her eyes are clenched shut and she sends a fist flying through the air and at the punching bag. The punch connects, breaking links on the chain that once held it up and sends it hurdling towards the other side of the gym. And just like that, she collapses onto her knees.

"I can't... let her be better than me," she says. York kneels down next to her and puts his arms around her.  
"It's just a board, it means nothi-"  
"No, it's not the board. She killed her. She killed one of us, a team-mate."  
York blinked, "killed who?"  
She looks down at her hands and he watches her take off the wrappings. The crimson on the fabric looked wet, and when her skin was exposed, glistening blood dripping from her knuckles and onto the mat on the floor.  
"Connecticut."

His muscles tense and he reaches a hand down to hold hers, not daring to touch the raw red skin.  
"Tex did it then, huh?"  
Carolina nods, "two axes to the chest. She and the insurrectionist leader got to the escape transport, but there was a lot of blood. I doubt she's alive."  
He pulls the hand holding hers away to grab the towel over his shoulder. He holds it out to her.  
"Who knows, Maine was shot in the throat eleven times and he's still alive," it's the only thing he can think of to say, but somewhere in his gut he knows that CT isn't alive. "Here, hold out your hands."  
"No, I'm fi-"  
"'Lina, just do it for me."

She's reluctant, but she holds out her hands for him and he wraps them in the towel. It's a little old, but it's clean and he's not worried about any infection, or the fact that it's getting smeared with blood.  
"Why would you do this to yourself, 'Lina? You're literally working yourself to the bone."  
"I told you, I have to be number one. It's not for me. I have to be number one for the team. I have to be number one for you."  
He makes a little crooked smile, moving a hand to her chin and lifting her head a little. And just like that, he leans forward and kisses her, gently and slowly. It's in no way passionate, or rough, but it's comforting and warm and his thumb comes up to brush over her cheek before he pulls away.  
"You already are number one to me," he whispers.

"York?"

"Hmm?"

"That was terribly cheesy and romantic."

"I know, 'Lina, it's what I do."


End file.
